What You Will
by greyhorizon
Summary: Twelfth Night-inspired au You know the one. Young woman in dire straits takes on identity of her twin brother. In this guise, she meets and falls for a noble man. He, however, has his sights on another woman, who's grieving and not interested, until - forget it. This needs a diagram. Since the season's theme is identity, let's revisit an old classic from the old classic himself
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is just Twelfth Night-inspired. It's not strict canon. It's barely loose canon (*snort* - that was actually unintended). Anyway, I still miss Tommy so have made him Felicity's twin, so the whole 'being mistaken for each other looks-wise' is out (not that I've ever really bought that in the casting of any production I've ever seen). I also couldn't put a fake moustache and suit on Felicity. Just no. Or have Laurel fall for her. Just couldn't.**

**Otherwise, for any school kids skipping out of reading the Shakespearean comedy and looking to scan over something quickly for the essay they need to write, this story is exactly the same as the play. You can quote scenes from it and everything. Promise.**

**Just a friendly warning: if you are going to read this story, then please suspend your disbelief very, very high. Granted, we are playing in the DC universe, so clark-kent-donning-glasses-so-noone-recognises-him-as-superman is probably a good bench to mark. In other words, try to be kind and forgiving, and let's have some fun with it.**

**Chapter top quotes and storyline (vaguely) is all Mr Shakespeare's. Bless.**

**So, Twelfth Night. Twelve chapters. Let's do this thing.**

**'If this were played on a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.' - S'spr, 12 nite, y'all**.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - 'These parts: which to a stranger, unguided, and unfriended, often prove rough, and inhospitable / one face, one voice, one habit and two persons'**

Felicity tugged her grey hoodie further down to shield her face, and pushed her shoulder into the heavy glass door to swing it open. She swagger-shuffled into the coffee shop and took up at the end of the line of patrons awaiting their hit.

Breathe, just breathe.

She adjusted her saggy denim jeans that were starting to slip a little and adopted a wide leg stance, shoulders slightly hunched and fingerless-gloved hands hooking off her lowdown pockets. Her black and orange backpack covered the Starling City Hawks emblem blazed across the back of the hoodie, and her wide, blackframed hipster-geek glasses seemed tassled across the top rim by her fake brown fringe.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

She was going to kill Tommy for talking her into this.

She glanced around, surreptitiously, blue eyes scanning the room to see if anyone was looking at her weirdly. Engrossed in animated conversations, headphones, texting, newspapers and thoughts, no one was paying her attention.

She breathed out a little and mentally fist-pumped. She was actually pulling this off! Wait, was she really celebrating the fact that everyone thought she was a boy?

Her consternation thought-train was punctured by the sounds of heavy fingers hitting keys, and frustrated, muttered swearing against the background of cafe chatter.

Felicity's left eyelid began to twitch in duet with each thunking key-smack. She looked around and spied the culprit in a booth next to the window, his back to her, but his forearm and hand staccato-ing off the 'enter' key firmly in view.

She couldn't help herself. Bad things happened when good people did nothing.

She broke away from the line and walked towards the man in the booth.

'Stop! Just stop. Hands up and awaaaayyy from the keyboard.'

He looked up from the screen, and swivelled his head around towards the voice - his expression a little confused, a little amused. 'Are you holding me up?'

Sonafabitch. Pretty much the most handsome face she had ever seen was doing the asking. Blonde cropped hair, deep blue eyes, beautiful expressive mouth, hard jaw glinting with golden stubble. Couldn't have been a pasty-faced middle management type. Oh no, she was pretty sure this was that billionaire playboy guy, Oliver Queen. The one back from the dead a few months ago.

Still, crimes against technology and all.

'Ha!' she stalled, pointing her finger at the laptop, nodding her head in unison with her rhythmic pointing. _What the hell was she doing?_

'The only crime being committed here is your assault on that poor, baby computer.' _Was that an incredibly girly thing to say? _Felicity coughed and dropped her voice a little.

'I mean, dude, you're crushing the keys. You need to treat her gently, like a lady.' _God, just make it stop._

She was going to _kill_ Tommy for talking her into this.

The Oliver Queen guy was looking at her like she was slightly insane. _Fair call_. She shrugged off her backpack and gestured with her eyes for him to move down the red booth seat so she could sit.

He didn't move.

She raised her eyebrows. 'Do you want my help or not?' Voice a bit gravelly. _Nice_.

The man staring up at her was now looking a little concerned. She was pretty sure he was checking for green exit signs. _Maybe he's not been out among the people much since he's been back?_

'Scoot over dude and I will fix whatever's ailing you. And by you, I mean your computer. Because I wouldn't know how to play doctor with you...or want to for that matter...but I am like a doctor for computers. An IT neurosurgeon, if you will-'

'Okay, okay!' he looked at her, shaking his head, obviously deciding the odd young guy standing in front of him was harmless. He smoothly moved his body down the booth to sit next to the window, creating a vacancy in front of the laptop perched on the table.

Felicity, bypassing second thoughts and rapidly nearing third, was suddenly hesitant to sit down. She didn't know this man - who was famous in a notorious kinda way - and she was supposed to be keeping a low profile.

_Fuck it._ It was just fixing a small computer problem for a stranger. A few minutes and she could fade back into the city.

She plopped down onto the still-warm bench seat, trying to ignore the fact he had turned slightly towards her, and was really quite big now she was sitting down next to him. She could feel him looking at her so she shot him a glance from behind her glasses, and a close-mouthed non-engaging smile, and turned back to the screen in front of her.

'So what exactly is the problem?' she asked him, voice low, eyes on screen, head tilted slightly towards his answer, ear cocked.

'Uh, the computer belongs to a friend of mine who's out of town and he needs me to access some files for him.'

Felicity's black, short-nailed fingers flew across the keys, finding the crack in the fortress.

'I'm in.'

'You're in? Just like that? That was about 10 seconds,' his tone disbelieving.

'Yep, and no force needed. Just a little sweet talk and digit encouragement.' Felicity turned to him and smiled in satisfaction. Her words signed onto the register in her head. _Fuck_.

'That sounded a little dirty, which was not...' He began his amused smile at her again. She mesmerised a little. Then his gaze shifted, arrowing behind her, as his iron arm grabbed her head and pushed it down towards the leather booth seat.

'Get down! Stay dow-'

Deafening gunfire drowned out his voice. She was swept by his body, off the bench and to the floor, shielding her. The gunfire rained throughout the room, joining a symphony of screams and shattering glass.

She felt the wind of bullets above her. The laptop bounced off the table and landed a foot from her hooded head, riddled with holes, screen sharded.

* * *

The silence sounded out of place after the commotion and chaos of the last minute. There was a quiet sobbing, rustling, a cough. Calm before a different storm of shock and realisation.

Felicity raised her head from the debris scattered, brushed concrete floor, adjusted her glasses, and looked around. The weight of the man's body - Oliver's - had lifted from hers amidst the gunfight, and she couldn't see him as she looked around the coffee shop in its broken aftermath. She could see others though, and everyone seemed to be alive - glass and dust covered, some bloody - but moving bodies at least.

Felicity gingerly rose to standing and crunched across the glass to the person nearest her. A dark haired woman, sitting up now in a booth, but bleeding from the brow. Felicity ripped at the napkin dispenser in the middle of the table, pressed some white napkins against the red, and helped the woman position her hand to keep it in place.

She looked around and saw others getting up and helping those who were injured, some with phones to their ears - calling loved ones, or emergency - trying to bring sense back to the crazy.

A young, aproned-covered barista was moving next to a black clad body on the ground, blood spreading from under the body, gun still strapped to his torso. The shooter. The barista was cautiously removing the gun from the body. To get it away, Felicity assumed.

As she picked her way across the gauntlet of the coffee shop - chairs overturned, hysteria taking hold for some as voices started to raise - she saw two more black clad bodies on the floor, centred in red, pooling blood. _Three shooters? What the hell?_

Her eyes scanned the room as she swivelled. _Where was the Oliver guy? _He had saved her; she needed to make sure he was alright.

They stopped their search at a body-caused blood trail creeping away under the swing-closed kitchen door. Someone was bleeding and crawling.

Felicity nimble-hopped over a side-turned table and headed towards the kitchen. She swung the double-hinged door open and paused - hearing attuned for gun-clicky noises of more shooters.

She heard hard, laboured breathing and a groan. Forgetting safety, she scampered towards the figure slumped on the floor against a metal, condiment-laden shelf.

'Oliver! Oliver!'

His grey T-shirt had morphed into black with blood, a tear in the shoulder signalling where the bullet had hit.

Unthinking, she grabbed his face in her hands as she crouched down next to him, willing him to fully conscious and okay.

He met her halfway.

'Take me...take me...father's...' Efforted words between harsh, shallow breaths.

'Oliver, you're going to be okay. I don't know what you're trying to say though.'

'Take me to...father's old steel factory...Glades.'

'Oliver, no. The ambulances will be here soon. They'll take you to the hospital.'

'No!' he bit, sharp. 'Please.' His eyes hooked hers. 'Take me.'

Felicity could feel her blood pumping, heightened breathing, adrenaline navigating her through her decision. Was this man even in his right mind to be asking this of her? What if he died and she was left with him at some abandoned factory? Surely she should just try to stop the bleeding until the paramedics arrived. Plus, he was huge. She was doubtful she could even fit him in Tommy's car, let alone drag him there.

As she debated, she stood and looked around the kitchen. Spying a pile of clean tea towels, she reached and grabbed a striped few, and bent down to press them as padding against his wound. Her hands, gloved in blood, looked so small against his labouring chest. They were dwarfed as his own hand came up to cover hers and vice the towels in place.

'Please. Help me.'

_Fuck_. Three little words made her decision for her.

She met his imploring eyes and nodded.

'You're going to have to help me Oliver. It is Oliver, right?'

'Right.'

'You're too big, I can't lift you.'

He turned his head to look for a purchase, grabbed the vertical steel spine of the shelves, and began to lever himself up, Felicity slipping under his arm to help, and staggering a little as he transferred his weight to her.

'Out the back,' he clenched. He had one arm slung over her shoulders, bearing his brunt, and the other holding the red drenched tea towels in place.

Together they non-rhythmically faltered to the door, like a drunken three-legged man race. Felicity felt like she was trapped under a mountain of iron. _Damn, he was heavy. How does someone get this heavy?_

She heard him cough a laugh. Guess that observation had visited her mouth.

'Sorry. Blooding pouring, imminent death. I know, I know.'

They somehow made it to the back door, and with some clumsily creative manoeuvring, through the door, down the back steps to the alley, and to Tommy's car parked on the street.

The front of the cafe was in bedlam, people on the street, others heading in to help, the first of the red and blue flashing turning the corner and pulling up to double park in front.

Shielded by the spectacle of the crime scene, Felicity hurriedly opened the back car door and eased Oliver down as gently as she could. Her 'gently' could probably use some work, as his head smacked against the doorframe on her first attempt. 'Sorry.' She then shoved him into the backseat - reverse jack-in-the-box style - jarring his foot as she slammed the door. 'Sorry...again.'

'This is saving me?' she was pretty sure she heard him mutter against the pain, as she dropped into the driver's seat and started the engine.

She pressed her lips together to contain the smile that threatened, and checking the side mirror reflection, pulled out into the street, towards the Glades, undetected.

As she drove, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror to check on her passenger, paling but still breathing, dawn began to break on the reality of her predicament.

Tommy was going to kill her for this.

And not just because of the blood soaking into the upholstery of his backseat. In the last half hour, she had pretty much risked everything. Not only had she spurned laying low, she had inadvertently began dating its antithesis - beckoning-for-a-spotlight-by-saving-Starling's-most-famous-and-media-magneted-son.

At least Oliver seemed to want to avoid any attention, if the derelict, dimly lit factory she had just pulled up outside of was any indication. Felicity double-checked her phone to make sure she was in the right place. _Perfect location for a horror movie. He may not be the only one who dies here tonight._

Oliver roused as the car stopped. 'Downstairs. Dig will help.'

Not really understanding, Felicity nodded and scooted out of the car, towards help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - _You speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart_**

**Dun, dun, dunnnnn. The big bad of the piece this way comes.**

* * *

Felicity looked warily at the large man adjusting Oliver's IV drip, and discretely tugged down her fringe for the twentieth time.

Their exchanged words so far had been used to save Oliver's life. She had a few others she'd like to employ now that he'd stabilised, according to the man named Dig. Like, what the hell were they doing in the Vigilante's hideout?

Dig finished tending and turned back to face her. Impressive arms crossed over his impressive chest, expression schooled, but face innately kind. Felicity felt he was a good man, despite the arrow-y surrounds.

'I'm guessing you have some questions.' Baritoned honey.

'Some.' Felicity's hoodie-clad shoulders shrugged. 'I assume Oliver is the Vigilante?'

Dig's eyebrows raised.

'Why do you say that? I could be the Vigilante, or someone else we know.'

Felicity gave him an unconvinced eye as she began moving around the lit and shadowed room, running her finger along an arrow shaft as she passed, before ducking her hand away into her pocket.

Knowing that she probably shouldn't, she couldn't help theorising to this man.

'Timing fits. With his return from the island, and reports of the Vigilante in Starling.'

Dig looked at her, considering. 'But the police charged him and cleared him, when the Vigilante was seen at the same time Oliver was in custody.'

'Oh, but they didn't know he had a partner.' She inclined her short wigged-head. 'You.'

'You're a quick one kid.' Small smile curled, impressed. Serious stole back. 'Tell me, what happened?' Dig nodded to Oliver, flat on the stainless steel table, chest rising and falling reassuringly.

Felicity's mind scanned the truth for pitfalls, and gave it the all clear.

'Oliver and I were in this coffee shop down on Blake Street-'

'You know that's a bad neighbourhood, right?' he interjected, admonishing.

Felicity gave him a look. 'I do now. Obviously.'

She continued. 'Anyway, I was helping him with this computer thing, and gunmen came in and shot the whole place down. Oliver saved me.'

Dig had stilled. 'Where are they now?'

'When I got up, there were three dead on the floor. Everyone else seemed mostly okay, but then I found Oliver injured, and he wanted me to bring him here.'

'And you did?' Dig looked at her intently, curious.

'Well, he was pretty clear about it. And he had just saved me.'

'Still, not everyone - hell, not most people - would have.'

Felicity shrugged again. 'I don't know. I just felt like I could trust him. And this is what he wanted.'

She looked around the strange hideout. 'And now I've seen all this, I can understand why. Were the shooters after him? For being the Vigilante?'

Dig shook his head, matter-of-fact. 'Not sure. We'll have to wait for Oliver to wake up to find out.'

Felicity took her breath. Fidgeting kicked in. 'Right. About that. I should probably get going before he does. I promise I won't say anything, but I really don't want to get caught up in-' she waved her arm across the scene of the room, 'all of this.'

'I'm sorry kid, but I'm going to need you to stay until we speak to Oliver.' Kind but firm. Wiggle-room free.

Felicity sighed, knowing it had been a long shot. She fell sitting into a chair, mouth unconsciously forming a pondering pout, eyes fixed on the floor. _How long was she going to be here? And would they even let her leave? Surely they would, after she had tried to help. Since she was one of the good guys. Well, girls. Well actually, good girl pretending to be a good guy-_

'So, kid, what's your name?'

Felicity's blue eyes shot up.

She knew this one. Practised. 'Tommy. Though everyone calls me Flick.'

'Flick?'

'It's a nickname...for computer stuff. Like, flick of my fingers. I'm good with computers.' Explaining away. It was actually her childhood nickname.

'Which, if I'm gonna be stuck here awhile, we need to talk about.' Felicity got up from the chair and walked towards the computer screens set up on a desk at the far side of the room. 'Who the hell set up your computers?'

'Ah, that would be me and Oliver.'

'And how would you feel about me setting them up so they actually work?'

Dig chuckled. 'I think that would be fine.'

* * *

Felicity swivelled in her chair to the sound of a groan across the room. She watched as Dig walked over to the steel table, and placed his hand on the arm of the man returning to consciousness.

Oliver looked up at him in acknowledgement - almost as if this was an everyday thing - and then slowly, stiffly sat up. Bare, scarred torso patched and bruised.

He looked past his friend to her, sitting framed by the screens. His brow furrowed in remembering, in placing her. She shrunk back into the chair a little, not scared, but not comfortable either. _How was she going to get out of this one? Talk about about frying pan into the fire. Or maybe fire into the firestorm? Either way, it seems like she was a late developer for trouble._

She gave him a little wave, then clenched her fist to stop. _Shit. Girly. _Biting her bottom lip, she stood up trepidatiously, the computers behind her feeling like a battlement. Like they had her back.

Oliver pushed himself off the bench, and grabbing a scratchy, grey blanket proffered by Dig, limped towards her.

She took the offensive. 'So Dig said I could, you know, fix your computers.'

'They needed fixing?'

'Only if you wanted them to function. As computers.'

His eyebrow twitched in acknowledgement. _He was pretty lucid, for a guy that had almost died._

'I mean, they were-'

He cut her off. 'It's okay. Thanks.' He couldn't remember a name. Likely because she hadn't given it to him in their maelstrom of meeting.

'It's Tommy,' she offered. 'But call me Flick.'

'Flick?'

Dig's voice chimed in, propping himself against a table. 'Like in flick of his fingers. He's good with computers.'

Felicity looked at Dig and smiled. 'Thanks.'

He returned it. 'No problem kid.'

Oliver looked back and forth between the opposite two, feeling like he'd missed a chapter. A sudden thought.

'The laptop, at the cafe?'

Felicity shook her head, a little nonplussed at his priorities.

'Sorry, it's still there. It has a few bullets in it.'

Oliver swore creatively.

Dig turned to him. 'Did you get anything off it?'

'Ah, the kid - sorry, Flick - was helping me, before everything turned to shit. But no, there wasn't the time.'

'And the shooters?'

'Likely what we thought, but we can't be sure without the files.'

Both men had tensed, frustrated. Path to whatever they were after, blocked.

_Don't say it, don't say it, don't say-_

'If you can get it back, I may be able to salvage it.'

Spoken invitation for continuing her trouble-streak. Obviously, when God was giving out survival instincts, she'd opted for double the smarts and stellar fashion sense instead.

_Le sigh. She really missed her shoes._

Felicity mentally flummoxed back to the present to find both men really looking at her now. Uncomfortably so. She was hopeful her disguise could hold up to moderate scrutiny, but these were not stupid men and her luck could only hold so long. She held her breath, not chancing to move.

'Well, I'm sure the police have it by now, but I have a contact or two, so I'll see what they can do.' Oliver paused. 'Thank you.' A formal acceptance of her offer.

His voice quietened. 'And thank you for saving my life, Flick.' He stood face on to her, blanket slung across his shoulders, holding out his hand.

Hesitantly, she moved her black-tipped hand into his and shook, wincing at his crushing grip. His hold lightened as he saw her expression. 'Sorry.'

'Don't worry about it. That bruise on your temple, that was me. Getting you into the car. So we're even.'

He pressed his lips and nodded, trying not to smile. Dig, amused, didn't try.

'Look, do you mind if I get a bit cleaned up and get out of here,' Felicity looked down at her rust-red hands and bulbous hoodie, smeared with dirt and blood.

She looked up and saw Oliver make his decision. 'Bathroom's up the stairs, to the the right.'

She nodded her thanks, picked up her backpack and began to walk towards the stairs, only remembering her practiced boy-shuffle about four steps in. As she reached their base, she turned. The two men were watching her leave. Still, no gender pennies seemed to have dropped.

She wanted to let him know he had made the right decision about her. 'I won't tell anyone your secret, Oliver.'

'I know.'

'How do you know?' she asked, puzzled.

'I trust you.'

'But why? I'm a stranger.'

He looked at Dig and then back to her.

'I don't know, there's just something about you.'

* * *

'Who is she?'

A dry swallow of trepidation. 'We're working on it sir.'

A tall man stood against a window, features pronounced as though they should be cast in bronze. Hair short, brown greying, slightly curled. Dead eyes the harbinger of his name. Tiger Snake. His nature its solidifier.

'It's been over a week. I want her found.' Not a demand; an expectation.

He turned his head so it was profiled against the night's sky ekeing into the lamp-lit room. Antique furniture-set. Expense soaked into every turn of wood, every stroke of art, every fibre of carpet.

He looked back at the shorter, suited man a few steps in from the doorway. The young man's shoulders were steady but barely containing his instinct to cower.

'Reginald.'

'Yes sir?'

'You have three more days.'

'She's good sir. She's really good-' he tremored.

'Enough.' Smooth, deep voice, transfixing. 'Three days, or this doesn't end well for you.' The tall man looked at him dispassionately, an un-hungry predator eyeing its future prey.

'Y-y-es sir.' Dismissed, scampering backwards out of the room, closing the door against the bleak conversation, and the threat, which he knew would be seen through if he failed.

Reginald, or Reggie to his friends, was an IT genius, simply put. He had been headhunted out of college by major corporations and US-based government agencies.

His eventual vocational choice met his soaring ego and reflected his dubious morality. He knew of the Tiger Snake's reputation before he'd decided to work for him, lured by the fortune offered and the borrowed power of working for one of the underworld's most feared and brutal.

And so for the last four years, he had constructed the electronic framework for the Tiger Snake's empire and been instrumental in building its intangible fortresses, its roads in and out, its liquidity, its landmines, and - what he had thought was - its traceless facade of legitimacy.

Until someone had wandered on in. Until this nameless, faceless 'she' had hacked down the promised-impenetrable facade.

What this 'she' seemingly didn't know at the time was whose territory she had inadvertently stumbled into. Or the fact she had stepped on the Tiger Snake's tail.

His reptilian namesake, tiger snakes, were known for a high mortality rate for those they struck, and unfortunately for their victims, they struck with a near 100 per cent success rate.

The difference with the man he had just closed the door to?

The Tiger Snake never missed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - _'I am not what I am'_**

Felicity stared up into darkness. Huffing, she reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. It was 1.25am and she was still wide awake.

She knew it wasn't the coffee. It was only in part the strange, death-defying, life-saving day she had just experienced.

What kept her from sleep was Oliver Queen.

She wondered at him, what he must have endured on the island to come back with those skills, and those scars. The man he must be to do the things he did. The charming facade of the billionaire hiding a dark, tortured noble. A noble man seeking redemption. For something. Someone perhaps.

Felicity didn't like mysteries; they bugged her. And Oliver Queen was an enigma the likes of which she had never before encountered. He was fascinating. And, well, a little bit gorgeous. Okay, he was pretty much the most handsome man she had seen up close, so of course she was dressed as a guy when they first met, and then covered in his blood the second time they'd spoken. Not exactly high scoring on the passion-inducing scale.

_Which didn't matter,_ she chided herself, _because she was laying low. As a guy._

Felicity groaned and turned her face into her pillow. After ten seconds, she turned her head away from partial suffocation by feathered mass, and expelled a sharp breath through her nose.

_Enough. Enough now. _Her and Tommy's lives were at risk, and she didn't have time for this. Wrong time. Wrong city. And definitely wrong out-of-her-league-and-potentially-out-of-his-mind guy.

Sleep came after another hour or so of mind circles; broken into minutes later by her phone's illuminated buzz.

Felicity blearily felt up the lamp near her head, and found the small button to push for light. She grabbed her phone and glasses-less, brought the screen up to her face. She groaned as she deciphered the picture of her grinning twin brother.

'Hey sprocket!' Tommy's jovial greeting.

'Tomm-y,' Felicity's half-asleep censure. 'What are you doing calling?'

'What? It's been a few days and I just wanted to check in how you were?'

'Tommy, it's almost three in the morning.' Felicity tried for admonishing, but it came out resigned.

'Is it? Huh. Well you know I'm not great at timezones.'

'What time did you think it was?'

'Like, 1am?'

'And that's better?'

'Little sis, I'm calling to see if you're okay, so get off my case. Are you okay? Are you settled in?'

'Yeah, Tommy, I'm fine. I'm going out of my brain with boredom, but I'm safe. I'm okay.'

'And you've been staying close to the apartment. You've haven't been out in the city?'

'No, not the central bit.'

'Felicity?' Tommy's tone dropped at the question.

Felicity winced into the phone. She hated lying to Tommy. Especially now.

'I...may have gone for some coffee. At a coffee shop.'

'Uh-huh.' Waiting for the shoe.

'And there may have been a small-ish incident. I _was_ wearing that lame-ass disguise though,' she hurried, in her defense.

'What happened?' No-nonsense older brother now.

Felicity picked at the threaded edging of her sheet. 'Um, some guys came in and shot the place up?'

'Fuck, Flick! Are you okay? Did they hurt you?'

'No, no, I'm fine Tommy. Not a scratch. Some guy pulled me down on the floor. I'm fine.'

She waited for the question she knew was coming.

'Were they after you, Flick? Was it his men?' Tommy's voice edged towards panic.

'No, I don't think so. I don't think it was me that they were after. Just...bad timing.'

Tommy sighed his relief.

'And you got out of there okay? No one saw you?'

Felicity gulped her lie. 'No one, Tommy.'

'Well, good.' She could hear his tiredness down the line.

'How are you going, Tommy?'

'I'm fine, little sis. I think we're almost there. Hopefully this will all be over soon. But in the meantime, you gotta lay low. Stay home, and if you need to go out, just be discrete, okay? Don't talk to anyone. Cos your boy voice sucks,' he kidded, Tommy-of-old.

'Yeah. Okay.'

'And Flick?'

'Yeah?'

'Thanks.'

No more words needed.

* * *

For the fourteenth time since Tommy's inane idea that she disguise herself as a guy, Felicity apologised to her boobs.

'Nipples, I am sorry,' she muttered, as she struggled the makeshift, breast de-hancing girdle up over her chest. Crushing tender breastage, restricting bloodflow, evening tell-tall curves. Felicity turned to the side and surveyed her reflection.

'I can't believe it took me that long to grow boobs, and now I look like I'm twelve again.'

Felicity sighed and pulled a green t-shirt over her head, and a flannelette shirt over that,completing her dubious 'transformation'.

Groceries weren't going to buy themselves, and after the strange day of yesterday, she was determined to stay indoors for the next few days with the best the local supermarket aisles had to offer, her weathered box set of Friday Night Lights, and basically, be not a temptation to fate.

She twisted her long blonde hair to cap the top of her head, and was pinning it as the chimes of Tommy's doorbell sounded.

Instant nerves. _Who the hell?_

Felicity scrambled for her boy-wig and positioned it on her head, pushing blond wisps up and under, angling her head this way, then that, in the mirror, as she looked for traitorous strands. Heart pounding, blood rushing.

Again, chimes.

Her breath short as she made herself walk, not hide, not run, down the hallway, peering through the distorting scope in the front door to the other side of the hall.

Recognising her visitors, Felicity closed her eyes and thumped her forehead gently against timber. Apparently the strangeness of yesterday was going to spill into today.

Felicity un-locked locks and opened the door to Dig and Oliver.

'Hey.' Oliver, still in pain, she could tell, but colour better.

'Hey guys, what's up?' Felicity mentally rolled her eyes at her boy-gruff tone.

'Can we come in?'

Felicity looked down at the black computer bag Dig held closely to his side. She pulled the door open and allowed passage. Closing it firmly behind them, locks bolted in place.

She followed them back down the hall, and watched as Dig landed the case on her kitchen table, zipping it open.

'So, we got the computer back,' Dig said.

'So I see.'

'Do you think there's anything you can do with it?'

Felicity shrugged. 'I can try, dude.' Her impromptu male slacker vocab was a little limited.

She sat, pulled the laptop towards her, pressed it to life, and began touching keys.

'How did you find where I lived?' she asked the two men, her eyes not leaving the cracked screen.

'Sorry, Flick, that was me. Tagged your backpack.' Dig apologised to her open-mouthed accusatory look.

She regained some aplomb. 'Can you take it off now? I don't particularly want you guys - who let's face it, I only met yesterday - tracking me 24/7.'

'Yeah,' Oliver looking across at Dig and back to her, 'we can do that.'

'Cos when I gave Dig my number, I thought it meant you would _call _first.'

'Sorry, we're in a bit of a rush. Saving the city and all,' Oliver deadpanned.

This time, Felicity's eyeroll was visible behind her glasses.

Dig snorted in a suppressed laugh. Oliver chose to ignore the two.

'So, what do you think?' he prompted, nodding to the screen.

'It's going to take me a little while. This computer's pretty roughed up.'

'Do you want us to wait?'

'No!' Felicity's voice dropped naturally, with trepidation. The last thing she needed was these two men making themselves at home in Tommy's apartment, staring at her while she worked.

'I can bring it to you when I'm done. I'll _call_ first.' Laying it on with the subtle.

'Fine,' Dig said, rising from his bench lean. 'Oliver, we should get going. We've got that meeting with Walter and your mother at QC.'

Oliver nodded and turned to her.

'Thank you for doing this Flick. And look, I know all this must seem...crazy...but I appreciate you helping us. And, uh, given your skills, I thought maybe that's something you might want to do again? In the future.'

'Oliver.' Dig's warning voice.

Felicity looked at the standing men, silently warring over her.

'I'll think about it,' she said.

Dig broke his gaze from Oliver's adamant one, and looked down at the diminutive young figure lit pale blue by computer screen.

'Flick, what we do is dangerous.' He turned back to his partner. 'You know how dangerous, Oliver. You know what you're asking, but Flick doesn't.'

'Dig-' Felicity cut him off, 'Thanks for the concern, but I said, I'd think about it.' She looked at him with determined eyes, and he saw a strength there he recognised. It was similar to the look that Oliver gave him every time he headed out on a mission.

'Okay, okay.' Dig diffused his protectiveness. 'Oliver, let's go. Flick, we'll wait to hear from you.'

Felicity got up from the seat at the kitchen table and saw the men out, byes sounded, deadbolts farewelling their visit.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, true story. Was out horse riding a month ago, and I was having a chat with the guide about the deadly snake breeds in Australia. Her horse balks, and I look down and a tiger snake is striking at her horse, starting to move towards it. We back up, and the snake turns slowly and retreats into a crevice, but holy whoa. New rule: don't talk about snakes when I ride. And tiger snakes really do chase for territory. There you go. Also a timely reminder to get back to this story. Thanks universe (kinda) - Grey**

* * *

**_Chapter 4 - Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon 'em._**

Felicity skipped down the stairs to the Foundry, slowing as she rounded to find Oliver already down there. _Shit. Should've scuffed_. She self-consciously tugged down Tommy's blue hoodie hem.

'Hey,' he up-nodded, apparently not noticing amiss.

'Hey,' she breathed, relieved. 'Where's Dig?'

'He's coming. Just got held up a little. Do you want a coffee?' He indicated the percolated coffee on its heated plate.

'After last time? Not so much,' Felicity smiled.

'Without gunfire this time,' Oliver acknowledged back.

'Sure then. I can grab it.' Felicity did her best boy-scuff over to the machine, adding a little head-bop for effect. The attempt at casual diminishing as she fumbled the cup, turning back to Oliver with a dorky, apologetic grin.

He chuckled, then checked his watch. Dig-waiting.

Felicity poured herself the steaming dark liquid and took a sip, then a mouthful, as tastebuds recognised passable coffee.

She turned back around and aerosoled the coffee, as Oliver lifted up his top. Unveiling contours of abs.

'Wha-what are you doing?'

Slight furrowed eyebrow as he pulled the grey T-shirt over his head. 'Working out.'

'Here? Now?'

'It's where I train.' He looked around to indicate the obviousness of mats and weapons.

Felicity flailed for a life-raft excuse. 'Yeah, no. I mean, it's just that you still have stitches n' stuff. Is that wise?'

'Wise?'

'Yeah. Opposite of stupid.'

Oliver's jaw tensed in suppressed smile.

'I'll be okay. I heal fast.'

Felicity's eyes widened in 'okay-crazy-man'. She was still a little mesmerised by the latitudinal/longitudinal of his torso. _So eight packs do exist. Huh._

He raised and sprung to grip a bar above his head. He grunted in pain, but subverted, beginning a rhythmic ascent of clang and hold.

Disguise forgotten, jaw a little slack, Felicity wide-smiled in appreciativeness.

'Hey Oliver, hey Flick.'

Felicity spun to the deep, nearing voice. Dig dropped his leather jacket on a desk. His gaze switched, taking in the scene. She had a feeling he was figuring out something was not quite right in Denmark.

A moment passed. She felt the hook slip away.

'So, Flick, what did you find?' Dig asked, walking towards the beat up laptop.

Felicity tried to regain her best 'guy' mode. She put her cup down, flopped into the tall, wheeled chair in front of the computers, and scooted to open up the rectified laptop. Screen still shattered, she connected a cord to bring the display up on the larger screens.

Oliver dropped down from the top rung, panther-like, and walked over to look.

Of course he perched next to her. Of course he remain shirtless. The gods of lets-have-a-laugh-at-Felicity's-expense were working overtime since she arrived in Starling. Felicity could feel an unhelpful blush start, and willed it down.

She cleared her throat lower and began to tour them through the computer's hard drive.

'So, on the surface, not a lot going on. Normal files, typical web history, no alarm bells as such. But then, we get to this.' Her voice ta-da'd. 'Encrypted. Very well done. Someone expert.'

'And?'

'And, did I mention I graduated MIT? Broke it in like five minutes-'

'Aren't you a bit young to have graduated college?' Oliver interrupted.

Shit.

'I'm, ah, older than I look.'

'Really? Cos half the time it sounds like your voice hasn't even dropped.'

Felicity felt affronted for her fake persona. 'Rude!..dude.' _Oh-so-lame_. 'Do you wanna see what I found, or not?' she jerkily steered them back on course with two clicks bringing up a stream of data.

'Yes thanks Flick. Oliver, leave him alone.' Dig admonished.

'Sorry. What do we have?'

'Well, according to these files, we have a fairly extensive trail of laundering for the Massiano crime family,' Felicity matter-of-facted.

Oliver and Dig exchanged looks, unsurprised, satisfied.

Felicity took it all in. 'So the guys in the coffee shop. They were after this?'

'Yeah, definitely Massiano's men,' Oliver confirmed.

'So what do you want to do, Oliver?' Dig asked.

The blonde man paused.

'We should take this to Laurel.'

'Oliver.' Caution-toned.

'No, listen Dig, she's got the case against Massiano already open. This could strengthen it and lock him away for good.'

'So, that's the only reason you want to give this up to her?' Both men knew the answer.

'Look, she's just hurting, Dig. Me coming back to Starling has shaken up Sara's death for her again. It can't be easy.'

'Oliver, she's gunning for the Vigilante. Along with the rest of the Starling DA's office and the PD. We should lay low, minimise your contact with her for awhile. We only just cleared your name in connection with the Vigilante.'

'It's just handing over a computer, Dig.'

'Uh huh.' A mile from convinced.

Felicity's mouth formed words she didn't actually remember thinking. 'I could take it.'

Two sets of eyes zeroed on her.

She shrugged. 'I mean, I could drop it to her...this Laurel chick,' Felicity recoiled slightly from Oliver's frown, 'and just say I found it.' She nudged her glasses up. 'Or something.'

'Flick, I don't think you should get involved,' Dig cautioned.

Her steel set. 'Not your choice Dig. And correct me if I'm wrong - which, by the way - I rarely am, but we've already had this conversation.'

She turned to the coil-tight man sitting on her desk, considering.

'Okay, just take it to her,' Oliver abrupted, conceding.

She smiled, a little unsure. 'Alright. So where can I find this woman?'

Oliver's voice clipped, 'Laurel Lance. Assistant District Attorney.'

Felicity laughed incredulously. 'The one on every media outlet vowing to catch the Vigilante. That one? That's your contact?' Her head flicked to Dig for confirmation. He raised his eyebrows in the affirmative. The 'don't ask' was implicit.

'Soooo, I'm guessing she is...unaware of your night-time identity.'

'Yes, and I'd like to keep it that way Flick.' Oliver pushed off the desk and walked back to his metal ladder.

'Sure, no problem.' Felicity took Oliver walking away as the end of the conversation. She noticed he did that a bit.

She unplugged the laptop as the metal clanging re-started, routine as a blacksmith hammering a bend in a shoe.

* * *

Felicity eyed the determined brunette stalking towards her. Cut beige suit, slim frame, slicing through air. Consuming energy, focused.

Felicity had been standing in the foyer of the DA's office for 20 minutes, vacillating between regretting her offer to drop the computer off, and practicing her boy slouch. She was doing pretty well, she thought, no double-takes by passers-by; she was definitely getting the hang of this.

'Hi, I'm Laurel Lance. I was told you were looking for me.'

Felicity surreptitiously eyed the brunette's make-up. It was heavy for daytime, but expertly applied. She was quite stunning.

'Yep, hi. I'm, ah, Flick.'

'Flick?'

'Yep.' Felicity had decided against giving Tommy's name. This Laurel could either take the computer or leave it.

'Okay, Flick, how can I help you?' Tinged with impatience.

'I have some information that might be useful. In relation to your Massiano case.'

Felicity could see Laurel's breath slow, interest piqued.

'The laptop?' Laurel looked down, indicating the battered case clenched in Felicity's small, black-nailed hand.

'Yeah, it's a bit shot up, but we-...I managed to get it working.'

'And what is this information?'

'Well, I can show you if you like, but basically, it's Massiano's laundering files. For the past twenty years. Dates, routes, fronts. It's like the holy grail of Starling mobster-ing.'

'Are you kidding?'

Felicity couldn't tell if Laurel was being rhetorical or not, so handed out the laptop to her. 'No, it's all on here.'

Laurel eyed the strange-looking young man in front of her. 'Where did you get it?'

'I found it.'

Narrowed eyes.

'I didn't steal it. I found it, and I'm good with computers, so I was just seeing if I could get it working. And when I did, that's what I found.'

'So the files were just there, on the desktop?'

'Well, they were pretty well hidden. And encrypted.'

Laurel re-looked at Flick.

'I told you. I'm good with computers.' A person accidentally brushed Felicity's shoulder as they passed, reminding her the job was done.

'So, it's all there. Your computer guys should find it fine. I've gotta go.'

Felicity hitched her backpack and turned to leave.

'Wait, Flick. You can't just go. I need to get your details. Your statement. You may need to testify.'

Felicity barked a laugh. 'Yeah, that's not happening. I gotta go. See you around, Laurel.'

'Wait, Flick...'

Felicity let the heavy glass door swing shut behind her, as she disappeared into the crowds of the street.

* * *

Felicity liked the cool darkness of the Foundry. She walked steadily down the pale-lit stairs, glad to have a place to come that wasn't Tommy's apartment. She missed her friends, her family, her life in Vegas. She felt in stasis here in Starling - a slightly insane, at times heavily scary, stasis.

Except strangely, descending into the cavernous room she felt safe, and hidden.

She traced and pushed up the heavy, metal switch. Lights flooded, illuminating a solitary Oliver sitting, knees raised, against a cement pillar.

Felicity started a little, glad she hadn't been talking to herself aloud, or god forbid, humming. Which she sometimes did. Usually in a high, melodic tone.

'Hi - why are you sitting in the dark?' Felicity asked, deep-voiced, overcompensating.

Oliver looked over at her, sombre. 'I like to be alone sometimes, just to think.'

'Oh,' Felicity spun to point back to the stairs, 'I can go.'

Oliver shook his head, shook himself off, and rose to standing.

'No, no. You're fine, Flick. How did it go with Laurel?

'All good. She's taken the computer, and seemed to know what to do.'

Oliver nodded distractedly at her words. Felicity didn't know whether she should leave him, or awkwardly stay. The thought of heading back to Tommy's apartment, to bide more time, decided her.

Felicity edged towards the weapons stand, and traced two fingers up the smoothness of an arrow shaft.

'So, you know Laurel. From before?' she hedged, looking back around at Oliver.

'Yeah, we were together. For a few years.'

Felicity let the information sink in, gut dropping a little. _So, serious then._

'And now?' she picked.

Oliver's breath expelled in a gust of self-derision. 'Not so much. Her sister, Sara, died when the yacht went down.'

Felicity mind-filtered the implication.

'You were with her? I mean, _with her,_ with Sara?'

'Yeah. Probably the other good reason Laurel wants nothing to do with me.'

'Ouch.' Her voice quavered a little, disappointment flooding. So Oliver had cheated on Laurel. With her sister. Felicity tried to ignore how much this bothered her, trying to reconcile this younger, selfish version of Oliver with the man who now risked to save.

Oliver inclined his head, ghosting somewhere else.

Felicity couldn't help herself - subtle not a strength. 'But you still have feelings for Laurel. Want to be with her, I mean.' Not really a question. Disheartened by what she knew the answer would be.

Oliver looked across at her, a brief, wounded, stalwart smile. 'Yeah. Anyway. Not likely with our history, and with the life I lead now.'

Felicity reacted to the hopelessness in his voice.

'But you're trying to do good here, Oliver. I mean, that's why,' Felicity arm-sweeped the surrounds, 'you do all of this.'

'Maybe. I don't know,' he shrugged.

Felicity was surprised when he continued.

'Growing up, it's not ever what I thought my life would be. But...things happen.' A world unspoken, swallowed down. 'And when I returned, I wanted to do something to try and make it right. I wanted to honour my family, and protect this city. And this is the only way I know how.'

Felicity stood still in the aftermath of his confession. Soaking in his truth. Soaking in the man who tried so hard, and seemed so alone.

Oliver surveyed the stark, shadowed room, breaking his space, avoiding looking at her. 'I better get ready to patrol. Dig's on his way.'

The last thing Felicity wanted to do was leave. 'Can...can I stay around for a bit? Just, you know, I could help.'

Oliver looked at her. 'Sure. You're kind of already an honorary member of the team, so...'

Felicity smiled and slung her backpack to the floor, unknowingly flexing her fingers in anticipation as she gravitated towards her computers.

She halted, and turned to face him, straight on. 'Oliver, for what it's worth, I think this city is lucky to have you. And maybe one day, Laurel will feel that way again too.'

Oliver's eyes flicked to hers, speaking his thanks, though not his belief.


	5. Chapter 5

**So the scientific paper title in this chapter is actually a real thing. Found it on the Scientific Journal of Computer Science website and everything. I don't know if it makes me feel like I'm wasting my life on flippant things, or spending it in a wise, happy and gloriously ordinary way. Bit of both, I reckon - Grey**

* * *

_**Chapter 5 - 'Let thy fair wisdom not thy passion sway'**_

Felicity spun, bored. Sneaker gripping concrete floor, blue-lit screens zimming across her vision at second by second intervals.

She gridded to a halt when green interposed between blue flashes. Felicity blinked a few times to focus, and set on a tilt-headed and tense Oliver, dressed in leathers. _Shit. Was spinning girly? Probably. _She'd have to add it to her 'things-not-to-do-when-trying-to-pass-as-a-guy' list. She had one, on her tablet, cleverly hidden in the doc titled 'On the Simulation Study of Temperature Control System of the Resistance Furnace under Fuzzy Control'. It was filling up alarmingly fast.

'So, how did it go with Baddy-McBad? You turn him into the police? Or did he get,' Felicity mimed an arrow draw, 'pinged?'

Oliver stilled as he took a beat to look at her, then walked toward the stand to rest his bow. 'Starling PD were contacted and have taken Cochlan into custody. No need for pinging tonight.'

'Good to hear! We'll make a pacifist of you yet,' she joked.

'Who's a pacifist?' Dig joined the tail-end of conversation as he stepped from the bottom rung of the stairs.

'Nevermind,' Oliver banter-ended. 'So Dig, what did you find?'

'Well, Argus are keeping the information locked down, but there's definitely increased activity along the west coast in illegal arms smuggling. Which is where the shipment that arrived last week on the docks came from.'

Oliver nodded and turned towards the computer bank. 'Flick, are you able to have a look around and see what you can find. You know, on the internet?'

'You were _this close_ to saying 'interweb', weren't you?' she teased. 'You know, speaking from a technological-advancement perspective, you picked the wrong five years to get stranded on an island.' Felicity decided to shut up at Oliver's unblinking expression. 'But yes, I'll see what I can find.'

'Thank you.' Clipped.

'My pleasure,' Felicity responded sweetly, with an eyelid flitter. She smirked at Oliver's retreating figure and went to turn back to her computers, but was caught by Dig's look. Thoughtful. Directly at her.

Felicity smiled in worried defence. Dig smiled back, raising one eyebrow at her. She was pretty sure his eyebrow said, 'I know.' That his last piece of puzzle had snapped in place.

_Fuckity-fuck._

* * *

'Tommy?'

'Yeah, kiddo. How's it's going?'

'I'm okay. It's great to hear your voice,' Felicity said.

'I miss you too, little one.' An audible exhale. 'I'm sorry this is taking so long. How are you holding up?'

'Good.'

'Uh huh.' Sibling tone decipher.

'Just, you know. It's a bit difficult. Pretending to be a guy.'

'Yeah, but that's just when you need to go out for supplies and stuff. So no one recognises you on the street.' Tommy's voice hardening as a reluctant suspicion flared.

'Yep. No, absolutely.'

Certainty set with his sigh. 'What have you been up to, Flick?'

Felicity pout-winced against the ear-pressed phone. 'Sooo, I may have been using the disguise a bit more that we anticipated.'

She suspected Tommy was shaking his head, thin-lipped, on the receiving end of this information.

'I've kinda been helping out this guy - well, guys - with some work. It's actually the guy who protected me in the coffee shop the other day. You know, with the bullets. Well, he needed some more computer help - so I...helped. Him.'

'Felicity!'

'I know, Tommy, I know!' Felicity squinted one eye closed, hand accenting her words. 'It just all happened kinda fast. And I'm keeping safe, I promise.' A pause. 'Except...'

This time, she _knew_ Tommy was head-shaking.

'Except-what?' Protective, exasperated-big-brother-toned. Used in their childhood when she had broken something and he was preparing to cover for her.

'One of the guys I'm helping - Dig, I mean Mr Diggle - _maybe_ suspects I'm not exactly a guy.'

'Felicity!' Roared.

'Tommy, I know. But don't worry, he's completely trustworthy. And I don't think he'll say anything to the other guy, Oliver, so you know-'

'Felicity, who are these men you're talking about?'

'Sorry?' Miss pretend-not-to-hear.

'The men. What. Are. Their. Names?'

Throat-clearing staved off a moment or two of inevitable.

'Um, so, John Diggle.' Felicity's face scrunched in defence. 'And ah, Oliver. Queen.'

She could hear incredulous silence sprout from her older brother. _People don't think silence has a sound, but oh, it does._

Tommy's voice turned death-pale forbidding. 'Tell me you have not somehow managed to make the acquaintance of Oliver Queen - one of the most photographed guys on the planet. Tell me you are not spending your days in Starling City - where you have gone so no one can find you - hanging out with Oliver-fucking-Queen.'

'Tommy-'

'Tell me my genius sister is not that stupid!'

Felicity flinched as the phone line crunched. She could hear Tommy had flung his phone down on something hard, and muffled stamping and muttering filtered through.

After a minute, he returned, surface-calm, riptide emotion in the depths.

'So Felicity? I'm gonna need you to cut off your contact with these guys, make some excuse, I don't care what, and stay in the apartment from now on. Just stay put.'

'And Tommy, that's absolutely what I'm going to do...'

'Fe-li-ci-ty.'

'As soon as I help them out with this one last thing. Then I'll tell them I-...have to leave town or something.'

Tommy sighed. 'Not gonna be able to talk you out of this, am I, kiddo?'

'Probably not.' Felicity smiled in affection. 'But I will keep safe.'

'Okay then, Flick. I'll call you tomorrow.'

Felicity pressed the call closed and flung the phone onto her rumpled bedspread. She got up and stretched, unbuttoning her shirt and kicking her shoes off as she headed to the bathroom for a shower, door left half-ajar to help disperse steam.

Boy-wig topped the pile of saggy attire she dropped to the tiled floor, and the hiss and ricochet of water shrouded the sound of her bedroom window sliding open.

The jetted hot water pummelled her stiff neck, and she rotated under the stream, letting the heat relax her frame. _What a friggin' day_. Not only had Oliver subjected her to a full two hours of his topless "training" regime - _well, subjected may be too strong a term, but was the man never not half-naked, I mean, c'mon - but, _Felicity punctuated her thought with a squirt of shampoo which she then lathered through her wigged-compressed, starved-for-form hair - _then she girls it up too much and Dig deciphers her disguise. Probably._

Rinsed, lathered and conditioned, Felicity turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower, dripping foot hitting bathmat as she reached for the towel on the back of the door.

Wrapped, she walked into the bedroom and froze. Oliver-fixed.

He looked at her curiously. 'Hi.'

'Hi.' _What the frack?_

'Sorry. I'm looking for Flick?'

_Like a man in green leather breaking into your bedroom is a perfectly normal occurrence._

'He's out,' Felicity stumbled a lie. 'He's ah, gaming, with some friends.'

Oliver didn't seem overly interested; his attention fixated on her.

'And who are you?'

Felicity hitched her bathtowel, holding onto the tucked join with grim-death hands, aware a fair amount of dropletted skin was on involuntary display.

'Felicity. I'm Tommy's sister. His twin actually.'

'He never mentioned a sister.'

'Just arrived in town this afternoon. I'm staying with Tommy for a little while.'

The green-clad man nodded, and Felicity thought she saw a small smile on his shadowed face.

'Well, sorry to have alarmed you. I thought Flick lived here alone, and I just wanted to ask him something.'

'I can let him know you came by.'

_Definitely one of the top ten strangest conversations of her life._

'That's okay, Felicity-'

Felicity inhaled a sharp, shallow breath at the way he said her name; something hitched inside her.

'-I'll see him tomorrow.'

Felicity swallowed and nodded, eyes locking for a brief moment with Oliver's. Not recognition, but something else. Paralysing electricity.

Oliver inclined his head in goodbye, and swung out the open window, striped curtain flaring in his wake.

Felicity took two disoriented steps and collapsed on her bed, sitting damply on the edge.

_What the fuck just happened?_


	6. Chapter 6

_**So, had to have some surgery earlier in the month, and now just recovering from a virus-cold thing that seems to have taken out half of Melbourne, so basically, October is kicking my butt. Anyhoo, long weekend coming up (Melbourne Cup day - yup, we have a public holiday for a horse race) so plan to spend some time in daylight and ease on in to Summer. Hope you've all been well - Grey**_

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Intended to keep in darkness, what occasion now reveals before 'tis ripe.**

There's a time when the oddity of a moment slices through the routine of life, wakes you up, sucks air back into possibility.

Sleep had been a stranger. Felicity had dressed in her disguise like a numb soldier drill-compiling a gun.

She wanted to run. And stay. Tell Oliver the truth. Not utter a word.

She slipped her tablet into the backpack and shoulder-slung it, toast-in-mouth, key-in-lock.

The drive to the Foundry was automatic. She knew that Oliver would be wanting to speak to Flick; wondered if he'd ask about 'the' twin sister.

_This was getting so fucked up._

Mostly because she couldn't stop thinking about the night before. How one moment had changed things. How her lens on her life had shifted, with Oliver now centre-focus. How had that happened?

She didn't know if she liked it or not, or if it would pass like a normal crush. Something about this felt different though - bottomless, engulfing. Like she had altered at a molecular level. Even her breathing felt different, adrenalised.

Felicity eased Tommy's car to a stop behind a svelte grey sedan, and looked to see if it was occupied before getting out. Different was not good for somewhere as remote as the old factory.

She palmed her phone and cautiously walked to the heavy front door, pulling it open with her bodyweight and peering into the dark-shaped room. The works to convert the space into a club were progressing, but today it felt orphaned and bleak, like an end-of-the-world Sunday.

She saw a figure turn from what was becoming the bar, and stilled, deciphering a female form but not identity. The figure stepped forward into a lighter space. Laurel.

'Hi.' Confusion. Then placement. 'It's Flick, right?' Laurel looked at her, mind calculating. 'I'm here to speak to Oliver, but I wasn't expecting to see you. Do you know Oliver?'

Felicity flit-thought about turning around and bolting, but sense stayed her.

Bluff. And good lies.

Not her strong suit.

'Hi Laurel.' She boy-nodded. 'How's it...hanging.' Egh. Felicity hitched her backpack and squared her stance.

Laurel tilted her head and smiled. 'Good.' Her lawyer eyes pinned, letting silence build the pressure.

Felicity rushed her excuse. 'I was just, doing some tech wiring and stuff for the new club. I freelance, and...a friend recommended me to the Queen guy - I mean, Oliver - for this gig. So ah, is he around?'

'Not yet, no.' Laurel lay a hand on the cloth-draped bar, her suit cutting angles, cat-cornering-prey vibing off her. 'But since you're here, I thought we could talk about the laptop you gave me. And where it came from.'

_Sweet jesus Oliver, please arrive early today._

'It's not really my place to say, Laurel. But I hope it was helpful,' Felicity smiled boy-winningly.

'Oh, it was. Thank you, by the way. But I have to say, it's given me more questions than answers. Including who you are exactly, and how a teenage boy has become involved in a major mob conspiracy.'

_Oi. Couldn't she just be happy with the gift-wrapped evidence?_

'Just lucky I guess,' Felicity sassed.

Laurel's expression did not relent.

'Too much John Grisham as a child?' Sass, take two.

Laurel turned her head to side, amusement leaking through this time. She pushed off the bar, and swung into a slow, semi-circle lawyer walk. 'Okay, so, you're not going to tell me. That's okay.' A few more steps. Shoes grating the dirt on the concrete floor with each footfall. Laurel slowed as she neared Felicity, and then stilled, capturing her gaze. 'But just assure me that you know what you're involved with, and you're gonna keep yourself safe. No bragging to friends or anything.'

Felicity felt a little taken back by the sincerity track, and touched by the concern.

'No, I'm being careful. Thanks though.' Felicity re-hitched her backpack.

Laurel smiled at her thoughtfully. 'You're a strange one, do you know that?'

Felicity chuckled. 'I'll take it as a compliment.'

'You should, Flick.' Laurel switched modes again, back to bristling efficiency, surveying the darkened space and lack-of-Oliver. 'I don't really have much time to wait for Oliver to show. Can you let him know I was here looking for him, and ask him to...give me a call about a case.'

'A case?' Felicity's brow furrowed in confusion. _What case would Laurel need billionaire-Oliver-Queen for? Unless she was fishing for his connection to Flick, and the mob-laden computer? Or Vigilante hunting?_

'Yes, of course.' Laurel, trigger-defensive at the dubious look Felicity was giving. 'Look, Oliver and I were over long ago.'

_Okay, that was a sharp right turn in conversation. WTF?_

'Oh, no, I didn't mean that. I thought...I mean, that is soooo none of my business,' Felicity floundered, wondering how she'd ended up in the deep end of this pool of awkward.

Laurel, however, was sparking, anger-fused pain. 'I mean, he was the one that slept with my sister. And got her killed!'

_What was she talking about? The yacht sinking?_

Felicity scrambled to find word-footing.

'Look, Laurel?' Felicity's hands arced forward, placating, syncopating. 'You seem...really upset at Oliver, and I imagine you have good reason to be, but, ah-' _don't get involved, don't get involved,_ 'he's been through alot too, he's lost alot, and I think he's trying really hard to do better now. To be a better man than what he was.'

Laurel bitterly stared, eyes swimming. A harsh, hurt whisper, 'There's so much history between me and Oliver. But losing my sister almost killed me. And every time I think of him, I think of her. And it's all just wrong and it can't be fixed. So I...understand what you're trying to say, Flick. I just. Can't. Hear that right now.'

Felicity sympathy-smiled. 'It's okay. I get it. You're both in pain. But Oliver...he just seems like a guy who's coming back from somewhere pretty dark. And I think he needs people to help him see that it's worth it.'

Laurel considered, looking at her with an intensity that was unnerving. Then determined. 'I just don't think I can be one of those people.'

Felicity shrugged her understanding.

Laurel blew out a deep, surprised breath, breaking the moment. 'Okay, well that got a little intense.' She shook herself. 'I'd better go. Give Oliver my message, will you?' Heels echoed as she headed to the door. Silence, as she turned back, 'And Flick, thanks for the talk.'

'Sure thing, Laurel.'

'You know, you're not like other teenage boys that I've met.'

'Oh, you'd be surprised.' _You have no idea._

'See you Flick. And remember what I said about keeping safe.'

'Yeah, thanks. See ya, Laurel.' To the departing, suited back.

The door opened to the light of the overcast day, and swung back into darkness.

* * *

'Reggie. I understand you have news for me.'

Reggie swallowed on dry throat, wondering why he was still so nervous when he had found the girl they were looking for.

His legs felt 50% there as he shuffled forward into the lush office, magneting towards the Tiger Snake sitting behind his imposing desk.

'Yes. Sir. I found her. Um. I traced the ghostprint from our systems and then programmed a-'

'Reggie.' A voice of implacability. 'I don't need to know how. I need to know who. And where.'

Reggie reluctantly made eye contact, and his soul aged years. The Tiger Snake was was more than just a psychopath running an empire, he was his warden, and his fate.

'Starling. She's in Starling, sir.'

A brief glimmer across his eyes was the only response from the man hunting prey.

'And her name?'

'Felicity. Smoak.'

* * *

Oliver seemed chirpy. Felicity found it disconcerting. She was pretty sure he had just skipped down the Foundry steps. In a manly way, of course. Heading straight for her.

'So, Flick.' _Was that meant to be a question? Or a hello?_

'Hey Oliver.' Her eyes fixed to data-filled screen. Not wanting to look at him in case heart pounding took over.

He swung her chair around, soundtracked with her indignant 'Hey!'

He stood back, arms crossed against chest. 'So, I dropped past your place last night.'

'Uh huh.' Felicity raised her eyebrows innocently.

'And I met your sister.' _Still not sure if that's meant to be a question._

'Mnnm. She didn't mention it,' Felicity casualled.

'Really. Didn't mention the Vigilante being in her bedroom?'

_Fuck. Good point._

Felicity seized the offensive. 'Wait - you were in her bedroom? What were you doing in my sister's bedroom?' Channeling over-protective Tommy. _Who knew that would come in handy?_

'I was there to see you.'

'Dude. You came to see me in my bedroom?' Felicity deadpanned.

Oliver lightly clipped the top of Felicity's beanie, and it took every bit of control not to check her wig position. 'You're funny. No, I was there to see if you'd found the location of the arms drop, but instead, this sister that you'd never mentioned was ah- there. Instead.'

_What was the opposite of smooth again? Oh, that's right, Oliver and this conversation._

'So you said.'

Oliver shifted weight. 'Yeah, so. How come you hadn't mentioned her. That you had a twin.'

Felicity watched Oliver's attempted uber-casual. A smile captured her face, she couldn't help it.

'There's alot you don't know about me Oliver.' Oh, this was getting fun. 'I also have parents, and a pet fish, if you're interested.'

'Right. Right.' Oliver laughed. Then nodded slowly. 'So, Felicity.' _One-frigging-track. _'She in town long?'

_Unbelievable. Oliver was interested in her. Holy fuck._

Felicity swallowed, the funny dissipating as reality settled in. 'For a little while. Why?'

'Oh, no reason. I just-'

Dig's heavy clanging steps broke the conversation, as Oliver turned to face his approaching friend. A touch guilty-like.

'Hey, Dig. How did you go?' Oliver asked.

Dig looked at the blonde man, picking up on the odd. 'Fine. I spoke to my contacts and you are good to go. Flick, thanks for locating the drop for us so fast.'

Flick, relieved at interruption, waved her 'no worries.' Dig tilted his head, looking back and forth between the two of them.

He pursed his lips slightly, deep brown eyes understanding something.

'Oliver, better suit up and get going. You've only got 20 minutes to get to the drop,' Dig ushered.

Oliver nodded, 'Right.' Heading to get changed.

Felicity turned back to her computers, her mind whirling, as her fingers and eyes automated - tapping keys, windows opening and closing on the screens like fireworks.

She heard Oliver pick up his bow and arrows, and code the door open, mission-focused.

As the door closed, she was chair-swivelled for a second time that day.

Dig leaned down toward her.'You and I need to talk.' Deep voice serious, steadfast. Felicity knew this one wasn't a question.

Felicity, trapped, trembled a smile at him. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He knows I'm not a boy._

Dig softened and returned to his full height.

'Okay, let's try it this way. Flick, I've noticed the way you've been...looking at Oliver. Is there something you want to tell me?'

Felicity's eyes darted in confusion. Looking at Oliver? _Fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound of flesh._ 'Yep, I'm gay.'

Dig crossed his arms and smiled. 'I don't think so.'

'No really, I am. Been out and proud since the tenth grade.'

'Flick.' In a tone that shut her up. 'I know that you're a woman.'

Felicity shut her eyes. She opened them slowly. Damn, he was still there.

'I thought you might know.' In her normal voice. That bit felt good at least.

Dig leant back against the metal table. 'Hi, I'm Dig.'

'Hi Dig, Felicity.'

'So Flick is?-'

'My nickname.'

'And Tommy is?'

'My brother.'

'And you're pretending to be him because?'

Felicity bit her lip, then launched. 'I just needed to be...not me for a little while. I kind of got into some trouble - I didn't do anything bad, or illegal or anything, I mean it was kind of illegal but in a hacking not hurting people kind of way-'

'So you got into trouble with the wrong people? Or the government?'

'Option A - some not so nice people.'

'Any now they are looking for you.'

'Bingo. You're good at this.'

Dig smiled despite himself. 'And I'm guessing there is a plan for getting you out of trouble. Or is it 'Mr Flick' until the end of your days?'

'Tommy's working on it. But I promised him and I can't really talk about it. He wants me to break it off with you and Oliver as it is.'

'So he knows about us.'

'Yeah, he wasn't...pleased...but he knows.'

Dig nodded, taking it all in.

'Can we help you out of this?' Dig asked.

'Thank you. Really. But Tommy has it under control. I'll only need to be a Starling a week or so longer - tops - and then I can get back to my life.'

'Okay. I guess the only other question I have is when are you going to tell Oliver?'

Felicity stilled. 'D-do you think he needs to know? I mean, of course he needs to know. But can we just hold off for a bit? I just want things sorted out before I tell him, so he doesn't head in all arrows blazing to punish the bad guys. And I don't want to do anything that will jeopardise what Tommy's working on.'

Dig looked at her. 'I can keep your secret for a little while. You and I both know that Oliver will want to take over and fix things. But you also need to understand that Oliver trusts you, and he doesn't trust easily. So I think you should tell him. Soon.'

Felicity's torso eased as her anxiety ratcheted down. Dig, bless him, wouldn't out her.

'Thank you Dig. And I will tell him. When everything's settled.' She smiled at the big man in gratitude, and turned back her screens, as Oliver's voice came in on cue, letting them know he'd arrived at the drop point.


End file.
